


Questioning

by Elke Tanzer (elke_tanzer)



Series: Yes, I Femslashed God, But It Wasn't Explicit [2]
Category: Dogma (1999)
Genre: Epilogue, F/F, Fluff, Romance, Yuletide, Yuletide 2005
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-20
Updated: 2005-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elke_tanzer/pseuds/Elke%20Tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set nearly eleven years after the events of the movie, Bethany figures she has most things figured out all right, but sometimes, humans are just thick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Questioning

**Author's Note:**

> This would be suitable for general audiences, except for Jay's constant stream of cursing. Written for While We Tell Of Yuletide Treasure 2005. Can be read as a sequel to The More The Merrier. And yes, I femslashed God in this one, but it's not explicit.

"I've been doing a pretty good job at this single parenting thing, considering! I figure I'm doing mostly OK, at least, but it's not like I can just ask You what You'd want and get a clear answer, right? But what the hell am I supposed to do now?"

Bethany Sloane lay awake in her bed, talking to the ceiling.

Nearly ten years back, she'd chosen to have her daughter baptized at St. Stephen's, despite the stern looks of disapproval she'd gotten from some of the old front-row biddies who were so very certain she'd be burning in Hell for being an unwed mother. Her own mother had been somewhat mollified by Bethany's choice of her grandmother's maiden name of Reid for her baby's middle name. Bethany hadn't bothered to tell her that the family name shared the same meaning as the given name of the Thirteenth Apostle no living soul aside from Bethany and two stoners from New Jersey had ever heard of.

She'd given up trying to figure out all of the possible ramifications of first name choice over the course of her pregnancy, and had chosen with the first name she'd always wanted to name the daughter she had thought she'd never have.

Heather Reid Sloane hadn't shrieked or wailed like some of the other babies through the sacrament, and there hadn't been any shining beams of light suddenly brightening the stained glass windows overhead, so Bethany had assumed that her decision had been met with at least divine indifference, if not approval. Just to be on the safe side, though, she'd decided to observe more than the familiar Christian holidays and spend time learning about other denominations and religious observances with her daughter as Heather grew older.

It hadn't been her decision alone... her friend Liz had contributed by making sure that Bethany had tried the very best of at least three different faiths' holiday foods during her pregnancy when she'd started having all sorts of odd cravings. There'd been no reason to abandon the tradition of having the best klaicha and beef rendang she could find around Eid, though she could never quite manage to keep the dates straight. And as a rather precocious preschooler, Heather had expressed a distinct preference for the spiced Devali candies provided by the beautiful woman Liz had briefly dated back then, so they, too, had become a Sloane household tradition. One of Heather's school friends was Unitarian, and sometimes Bethany brought the little girl along to church or sent Heather along with her family on Sunday mornings. Liz had been with her current girlfriend Summer for three years now. Summer was a New Age yoga instructor and an admitted foodie, so Bethany, Heather and Beatrice had a standing invitation to Passover, Hannukah, and Samhain celebrations with them. Bethany had stopped fretting about those sorts of issues a few years back.

When Heather had been an infant, Bethany had let Liz find her an older graduate student studying childhood development to babysit so that Bethany could feel less guilty about having to work full-time to keep the roof over their heads. Bethany didn't want to assume that she should use the word "godsend" to describe Beatrice, but that's how she felt about her. She'd been an integral part of their lives ever since. Her thesis defense and transition to a local teaching position at the college had roughly coincided with Heather starting first grade, and her role as babysitter had transitioned smoothly to one of dear friend.

Those choices had been relatively easy. Every now and then, she'd prayed or talked to her ceiling in the middle of the night about something she'd thought she could use some help on, but she hadn't ever gotten a clear answer on anything she'd asked, so after a while she just assumed that she was on her own.

Given the option, always err on the side of tolerance and diversity, Bethany had thought, and try give her beloved daughter as many good experiences in the world as she could, because, really, God only knew what her adulthood would be like... Go to the library often and let the little girl read whatever caught her fancy. Make sure she ate her fruits and vegetables, which had been quite the challenging proposition when Heather was younger. Be as honest as humanly possible, even on the household taxes. Teach the girl to treat others as they wanted to be treated, and to share what bounty they had with those less fortunate...

So far, being a single mom could've been worse; she'd had a steady job and a couple close friends for support, and Heather adored both Liz and Beatrice, whom she had nicknamed "Miss B" just about as soon as she could talk. However, most single moms didn't have to worry about screwing up raising the Daughter of God while they were at it, so Bethany figured she had every right to a few more sleepless nights than most.

For the most part, raising Heather had started out pretty much like raising any child, and it had required a lot of her attention. There had been the few odd instances when the kitchen water cooler had inexplicably been filled with white grape juice rather than water the year she'd started preschool, that was true, but other than that, Heather hadn't drawn undue attention to herself or been too far out of the ordinary. Luckily Beatrice either hadn't noticed or simply didn't think it odd that they'd had juice in their water cooler, and at the time, Bethany had tried to let herself believe that God was expecting, or possibly providing, a fairly quiet childhood for Her Only Begotten Daughter.

Bethany had given up on the dating scene years before. Dating was difficult enough for single moms, but how was she ever going to be able explain to anyone she got that close to who Heather really was? If Bethany was lucky, they'd think she was a harmless nutcase, and if she was unlucky, they'd try to have her committed. And the other possibility was even more problematical; would it be fair not to tell someone, if their relationship got that serious? It wasn't like there'd be no issues later between a step-dad father figure and Heather's actual Father Figure down the line.

She'd asked Beatrice once for research about kids raised without fathers in the picture, just to make sure she wasn't going to scar her child for life by staying single, but Beatrice had said that her own biological father hadn't been in her life much while she was growing up and she'd turned out OK, and that as long as Heather had a loving home and plenty of adults who cared about her, she'd be fine.

So she didn't date much, even though Liz kept trying to set her up with hot young men, year after year, much to Summer's amusement. Whenever Bethany had wanted company during those early years, Liz and whoever Liz was dating at the time were usually around, and Beatrice always seemed to have discount tickets to an upcoming show at the local theater, or a free day to spend at the park, an available evening to simply come over for a movie, curled up on the couch with hot chocolate or good wine or ice cream or some combination of the three. Life had been pretty good.

When Bartleby and Loki had shown up on her doorstep one afternoon a few weeks before Easter two years ago, she'd nearly panicked, though. Her first instinct had been to slam the door in their faces, to grab Heather and run, but something about their postures had made her pause. Bartleby had opened his mouth as though to speak, but couldn't seem to make any words come out.

Loki had broken the uncomfortable silence. "Hi. You're Bethany, right?"

She'd nodded slowly, still very much on her guard. "Yes. And you're Loki. And Bartleby. What are you doing here?"

"Well, we heard a rumor. I mean... that is..." Loki paused, and looked to Bartleby as though expecting him to interrupt at any time, but the taller angel had dropped his gaze. "Um... we just wanted to know... I mean, we couldn't cross the Atlantic without flying the last time, and... I mean..." Loki had paused again.

Bethany had simply waited, clutching the edge of her front door tightly, still ready to bolt and run.

Finally Bartleby had lifted his face and looked directly into her eyes, his own glistening slightly. His voice was very soft, and it quavered a bit. "Is it true? Is She here?"

Bethany couldn't be anything but honest, after all. She had nodded, all senses on high alert, but Loki had simply put his hand out Bartleby's shoulder to steady him.

Bartleby had whispered, "Thank you," and suddenly crumpled to sit on her front porch.

Bethany hadn't wanted to tell them that her daughter was at school, but they seemed content simply to compose themselves, offer her belated congratulations and leave. Bethany had been slightly mystified, but shrugged it off after a few days when nothing else out of the ordinary happened.

A few weeks later, bright and early Easter morning, they'd been back, carrying a huge basket of what appeared to be mostly-healthy treats between them. Bethany had considered turning them away, until Heather had come down the stairs behind her and Bartleby had smiled so peacefully up at her as two silent tears tracked down his cheeks.

Loki had managed words when none of the rest of them had been able to. "Hi. We're friends of your mother. Happy Easter!"

Heather had walked right up the two of them, and shaken their hands quite solemnly. "It's very nice to meet you. Is that Easter basket for me?"

Bartelby had torn his gaze away from the little girl to meet Bethany's eyes. His look spoke volumes, but again if was Loki who spoke for both of them. "If it's all right with your mother."

She'd looked from one to the other of them, and they'd seemed so happy, so at peace just being near her daughter that she couldn't bring herself to say no.

After that, they'd become part of her extended family as well. They'd moved into a house just down the street a month or two later, and though Bethany still couldn't help but want keep a close eye on them, they seemed to have nothing but the little girl's best interests at heart. Besides, they were remarkably handy at random chores in the yard, and they kept offering to help.

Liz and Summer had been thrilled that Bethany had somehow acquired more friends, especially of the apparently-young-and-cute variety, though Liz did voice disappointment that they acted "like an old married couple" and were thus not candidates for Bethany's nearly nonexistent dating roster of potential males. Summer had merely smiled and offered to watch Heather the next time Bethany wanted to go to the theater with Beatrice.

When Heather had asked Summer last year why she had brought along her own almost-turkey when Bethany had invited all of them over for Thanksgiving, Bethany had wondered briefly if she'd have to get used to vegetarian cooking from then on, but Heather had apparently decided that tofurkey was just a fun silly word to chant in a sing-song as she'd helped Beatrice set the table. It had been less challenging to get her to eat her vegetables after that, though.

But Heather's food preferences were the least of the concerns keeping Bethany awake tonight.

Her car had blown a tire on their way home the aquarium late in the afternoon. The trip had been a special treat for Heather's tenth birthday. When Beatrice had discovered that the spare in her trunk was also flat, they'd had much more of an adventure than they'd bargained for. They had called for a tow truck, but it had been a long time coming, and Bethany was starting to worry about their safety being along the side of the road at dusk when it finally showed.

The nearest garage was some ways away, so that took longer than she'd hoped as well. It was going to be quite late in the evening before they got home. She was thinking of asking Beatrice to stay over again and just drive home in the morning when she realized that the two guys arguing about buying maps outside the truck stop next door to the garage were Jay and Bob. They didn't seem to have changed much over the decade since she'd last seen them...

"We do not need to buy a map, you fat fuck! Shit. If you want to cry like a little bitch and ask for directions, that's your own damn problem. I say we gas up again and just keep drivin'! Don't shrug at me, you pussy. At least I know we're not in Pennsylvania any more. It's not like the map we had was doing us any fuckin' good anyway, now, was it?"

She had tried to duck her head before they could have spotted her, but that just wasn't happening.

"Hey! It's Bethany! Schweet! 'Member Bethany? Hi, Bethany!"

Bob waved.

Bethany had taken a deep breath, asked Beatrice to stay inside with Heather, and then pulled on her coat and went outside to greet them. "Hi, Jay. Hi, Bob. Long time, no see."

"Hey! We haven't seen you since that time when we were at that fucked up church and there was all that shit with the shit monster and the hot babes, man! That was some weird shit, wasn't it, Bob. 'Member when I was driving then, man? I didn't need no damn directions then, did I? Shut up. Fuck! It's not like I knew anything about shifting back then, did I? Shit! Not like now, man, and besides, this rental's a fuckin' automatic... hey, it's real good to see you again, Bethany. Maybe you can tell us if we're going the right way to Massachusetts, huh? We were in fuckin' Pennsylvania for a long fuckin' time, but we're going the right way now, right?"

Bethany had resisted the urge to laugh. "Actually, you're near Chicago. If you started from New Jersey you're really far off track." She paused. "As soon as we get our tire fixed, we're heading back to the interstate. You could follow us to the tollway and then head east from there." She hesitated again, fairly certain that she shouldn't ask her next question. "Why are you trying to get to Massachusetts?"

"Because all the hot lesbians are goin' all civil union up there. We figure we can find some hot bitches ready to go on their honeymoons so we can watch. That ought to be some good shit, yeah..." Jay paused long enough for a quick breath, turning to where Beatrice and Heather were waiting inside. "Hey, are you two going to Massachusetts? Because your bitch is pretty hot, and Bob here could babysit your kid while you have your honeymoon and shit. We'll even split the cost of one of those fuckin' cool vibrating beds with you at the hotel, I bet you'd look hot doing her on one of those..."

Bethany had managed not to sputter too much, and Bob had simply waited calmly for her reply. She didn't want to think too much about what that had meant. "No, Jay, we're not going to Massachusetts. We're going the other direction. But if you promise to stay away from my daughter, I'll let you follow us to the tollway so you can get to Massachusetts, all right?"

"Snoogans... but only if you tell Lunchbox here that I do not need a fuckin' map to get where we're going, OK?"

"OK. You don't need a map. You should make sure you're not going westward. But you might want a map, just in case. I'm just saying... you two are a long way from where you want to be going."

Bob nodded once, his entire expression and posture saying "I told you so."

Jay had finally agreed, cursing all the while, and he and Bob had headed over to the counter to ask about maps.

She'd tried to tune out his next few words as they'd walked away. "That Bethany is still pretty fuckin' hot, man. Half black and all lesbian now... I bet she and her bitch get up to some hot fuckin' shit, man. It's too bad they're not going to Massachusetts..."

That had been hours ago, and tonight, alone in the wee hours of the morning, she was staring at her bedroom ceiling. Heather was asleep in her room, and Beatrice was asleep on the fold-out couch downstairs, and Bethany couldn't sleep.

A decade before, truth had had a strange way of spilling out of Jay's mouth at the strangest times...

She thought of all of the times Beatrice had come over and simply made everything better. She thought of how many times Beatrice had arrived on the doorstep as a friend rather than a babysitter, all those years before, and all the times a simple touch on the shoulder or a warm hug had been there when she'd needed it. She thought of all the times Beatrice stayed over, either because Heather had been sick overnight or because the adults had simply been talking late and no one wanted her on the road so late on her own.

Beatrice had never dated anyone that Bethany knew about, and for some reason she hadn't ever really wondered why.

She blew out her breath in exasperation. "God! I haven't pestered you much in ten years... I mean, of course I worry, and I pray every time Heather gets a cold... but... is she really supposed to have two mommies this time around? Oh, that's such a cliche..."

Her bedside lamp clicked on suddenly, and though Bethany squinted her eyes shut from the glare, she couldn't have mistaken the voice for anyone else if she'd wanted to.

"You humans are remarkably thick sometimes, you know that?"

"Metatron."

"Bethany." He sat on the edge of her bed, clothed in a dark suit and smirking at her fondly.

She sat up. "It's good to see you. It's been a long time, you know."

"Don't start with me. Come on. I need some tequila."

"Right. Can I at least not be in my pajamas this time?"

He grinned, and snapped his fingers, and suddenly they were both in pajamas, sitting at her own kitchen table downstairs. The overhead light bathed them in a warm circle of light, ringed by quiet darkness. A bottle of tequila and three glasses sat between them.

Bethany sighed. "I suppose you've been listening and watching all along?"

He smiled. "I like you, Bethany Sloane. I'd probably keep an eye on you even if your daughter wasn't who she is."

"Thanks, I think."

He poured the tequila. "You're welcome. But you're still thick." He handed her one full glass and poured another for himself.

She curled one hand around her glass. "So enlighten me."

"I'm not supposed to be here, you know. I'm only supposed to be keeping an eye on things, and keeping an eye on you."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that we've all got important jobs up above, and important things are going on down here, and I'm supposed to be up above and not down here. So you don't go mentioning this visit to anyone, all right?"

Bethany shook her head. "You're still not making sense. But fine, I won't tell anyone. It's not like most people would believe me."

The Metatron rolled his eyes. "Your angelic neighbors down the street certainly would, for example." He tossed back a mouthful of tequila from his glass, then leaned forward and spat it into the remaining empty glass he held in his other hand.

Bethany glared right back. "I won't tell them, OK? I won't tell anyone. Now what are you talking about? Why aren't you supposed to be here?"

"No one's supposed to know who's here. We tipped off Bartleby and Loki because we thought She could use the extra protection just in case, but that was planned, that was part of my job. They weren't that far away anyway, and since no one thinks they're important, no one is going to notice if they're not in Wisconsin like they're supposed to be, are they?" He took another mouthful of tequila and spat it out.

"So why are you here?"

"Because you were talking to your ceiling." He paused meaningfully, but she simply lifted her eyebrows and didn't chime in. "About something important you should have figured out a while ago?"

She sat back, and took a sip of her tequila.

"Oh, for the love of... you can't possibly have not figured this out by now. Humans are supposedly intelligent beings." He took another mouthful of tequila, pausing to swirl it in his mouth a bit before spitting it out again. "God isn't only up in heaven, you know."

Bethany blinked at him.

"She's been Father, Son and Holy Spirit already, and you've got Her learning the whole Daughter thing. That takes time, and She hasn't been Mother Goddess in a long while now." He paused. "Modern parenting is a lot more complicated nowadays than it used to be. You didn't think She'd really ask you to do it all alone, did you?" He paused again, but Bethany didn't interrupt him. "Well, for the first eighteen years or so, anyway, I mean. After that I've got an unavoidable appointment with the Daughter and then She's going to have to be on Her own. Are you with me so far?"

"You're not going to talk to her until she's eighteen. OK. I hadn't wanted to assume, and I was thinking you'd be visiting when she was twelve or so, you know.... wait... wait a minute..."

The Metatron rolled his eyes again, and had another swish of tequila.

"What do you mean, I'm not doing it alone for the first eighteen years?"

"At last, the light dawns. Humans!" He shook his head again. "Can't see your nose for your face some days. She may not remember all of who She is right now in Her current incarnations, but She is here with you. He did the whole hands-off parenting style the last time 'round, and that was rather rough on the Father and the Son, you know. It was pretty darned rough on me, as well, not that anybody asked. But in any case, She's doing things differently this time."

"You're telling me that I... that Beatrice..."

"I'm not telling you anything of the sort. I'm not telling anyone anything I'm not supposed to tell. But I am saying that you've been rather thick, and that trying to be the best mother you can be does not mean that you should allow yourself to overlook love in your life."

Bethany stared at him.

"I'm not going to spell this out for you. I can't. But there have been certain coincidences that you might have noticed, if you'd been paying attention."

"Heather does adore 'Miss B'..."

"Out of the mouths of babes, indeed, eh?"

"Should I even ask if she's taken her to play Skee-ball?"

He swished the last of his tequila and stood up. "I've got to go. I wasn't here, all right? You didn't hear anything from me. It's just... you don't have to deny the particular happiness of being with one special someone from your life because of some misguided idea that your God wants you to be all alone. That's important, and I couldn't think of a more clear way to get that into your thick skull."

Bethany was shaking her head again, but this time she was smiling. "All right, all right... thank you, I think..."

"And I'm not pushing you into anything you don't want. The last thing I want to be accused of is playing matchmaker." He cringed. "I'd never hear the end of it up above or down below if I did. And I really shouldn't mention it, but... carpe diem and all that, all right? Eight years are going to go by faster than you realize, and I can't guarantee that nothing unexpected will require Anyone's presence in the mean time. We're doing our level best up above, but..."

Bethany stood. "All right. Thank you." On impulse, she gave the Metatron a quick hug.

He returned it in kind, and then stepped away. "Oh, and Bethany? The Apostle asked me to thank you. He likes the name."

"Right. I suppose he's watching, too."

"Well, not at the moment. I'm not here, remember, so no one is watching just at the moment."

"Right." She smiled.

The Metatron simply smiled back at her, and snapped his fingers.

She was left alone in the kitchen. She supposed she should clear away the tequila... but turning to the table, she saw only an unopened bottle of wine, two empty glasses, and a box of really nice chocolates.

"Bethany?"

She turned, and Beatrice stood in the dim doorway, looking slightly rumpled.

"I saw the light on. Are you all right?"

"Yeah... yeah, I am." She paused. "Would you like some wine?"

Beatrice smiled and nodded, stepping into the light, and somehow the world seemed even more full of possibilities than before.


End file.
